


a favor in kind

by rissalaroo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Kinda, Other, Sad, Siblings, also kinda - Freeform, i love their friendship, they are at heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 13:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18592462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rissalaroo/pseuds/rissalaroo
Summary: “Shit! God fucking dammit!” Beau’s voice quivers no matter what she does, and she hates it. She hates that she sounds hoarse and pathetic and she hates that her eyes sting with unshed tears. She hates that all of the anger pounding in her head is drowned out by sorrow. She hates that this is her fault, and she hates that she could have done something to stop it. She hates that she got attached. she hates that it hurts so much. She hates that she doesn’t even regret getting attached, not one bit.





	a favor in kind

**Author's Note:**

> i'm very sad about molly's death... can you tell?
> 
> this is a short bit of a beau character study, cause i don't really know how to write her. i figured that angst would be a good way to find out! i hella love her friendship with molly tho,,, they were really like siblings :(

“Beauregard? What’re ya doing?” 

Beauregard jumps as Mollymauk speaks, his lightly accented drawl slicing away her thin strand of concentration. Her hands flinch and she curses, the throwing star nicking the back of her head before she drops it.. 

“Come on, Molly!” she groans. “I was so fuckin’ close to not cutting myself this time, and then you had to go and sneak up on me.”

“Well,” Molly points out, and Beau curses him for being right, “I didn’t really. I just walked right at you and you jumped. I didn’t even vaguely try to be stealthy. You’re just particularly oblivious today, it seems.” He smirks at her, crimson eyes narrowing.

She grumbles, leaning over to pick up the shuriken from the ground behind her. “I was concentrating, you jackass.”

Mollymauk takes another step closer to the log she’s seated on, and lowers himself down beside her with a sigh. “You redoing your undercut?” 

She hums in response, biting her lip as she focuses all of her attention back on the blade of the throwing star as it glides against the back of her head. If she just ignores the early-morning sun currently trying to blind her….It’s actually going pretty well, she thinks, until Molly interrupts her.

“D’ya need help with that?” he asks calmly. She almost drops the throwing star again before her nimble fingers pinch onto it, holding it tight. His offer is surprising, but oddly welcome. She feels a little bit of warmth bloom in her chest. She’s not quite sure what it is, but she feels it more often around her friends than she ever did with her family.

(She doesn’t find out until later, until it’s too late, that this feeling does, in fact, have a name. The name for it is love, and she never got around to voicing it aloud until it was too late. She loves- _loved _Molly.)__

__“I, um. Yeah, actually, that would be nice,” she admits. He is right, she’s been struggling a bit. Last time she had a mirror, at least, and it was slow going even then. She worries her lower lip between her teeth again, and decides to trust Molly. “Here,” She says brusquely, and almost tosses him the throwing star before she can think better of it. It’s a close call, and Molly snickers as he watches Beau almost drop the shuriken for the third time within as many minutes._ _

__He plucks it from her hand, rearranging his grip on the star as she watches, carefully avoiding cutting himself on the blades. His snake tattoo ripples in the sun as he does so, seeming to almost come alive and slither even further down his arm. “You’ll need to turn around for me to help you, you know,” he comments wryly, and she smacks him on the leg, momentarily embarrassed, before turning away. He laughs, the sound clear and bright, and gets to work on shaving her undercut._ _

__The short hairs on the back of her head don’t stand a chance against the quick precision of Molly’s fingers. He makes short work of it, as he deftly curves around the back of her head, his blade gently cropping away the hair. He’s not the best at this, by any means, but she knows it’s better than doing it herself. She almost doesn’t notice that he’s done until he brushes the back of her head gently with his hand, dusting off the bits of cut hair, and presents her shuriken with a flourish._ _

__“All done, Miss Beauregard,” he sing-songs, bouncing up from the log and flicking her much less gently on the back of the head. She snatches the star back from him, and glares, though it doesn’t have any bite behind it. He can tell too, and merely laughs as he saunters away from her. Over his shoulder, he calls, “You owe me one!”_ _

__She sputters indignantly. “Hey, I didn’t know this was and owe-you-one kind of deal, Molly!”_ _

__He gives her that devilish smirk once more, and says, “It always is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, unpleasant one, breakfast is getting cold.”_ _

__She glances around, picks up a small stick, and throws it at the back of his head. “Obnoxious one, you bitch, we’re having stale bread and pocket bacon! I haven’t eaten hot breakfast in like a week!”_ _

__He cackles at her as the stick clatters off of one of his horns ineffectually, and is gone with a sweep of his ostentatious coat._ _

__

__“Shit! God _fucking _dammit!” Beau’s voice quivers no matter what she does, and she hates it. She hates that she sounds hoarse and pathetic and she hates that her eyes sting with unshed tears. She hates that all of the anger pounding in her head is drowned out by sorrow. She hates that this is her fault, and she hates that she could have done something to stop it. She hates that she got attached. she hates that it hurts so much. She hates that she doesn’t even regret getting attached, not one bit.___ _

____She hates that she wishes so, so desperately that she could go back in time and maybe be a little bit less of a jackass, and a little bit less of a bad friend, and maybe even stop today from happening. She hates that she would give anything to switch places, to be gone in his stead. He deserved this more than she ever could. She hates that no matter how hard she wishes and prays, nothing will change now._ _ _ _

____She hates that another smaller piece of laughter and light has been ripped from the world, too early and too violently._ _ _ _

____Two years wasn’t nearly enough. She hates that some people will say that it was just “the right time for him to go,” or whatever, because that’s absolute bullshit. The edges of the tarot cards dig into her fingers, and she lets them._ _ _ _

____The salt of her tears sting as they drip into the small scrapes and cuts on her face; she hasn’t even bothered to wipe the blood from her nose. Because none of that matters. Right now, she doesn’t matter._ _ _ _

____What matters right now is that Mollymauk Tealeaf was the brother that Beauregard never had, and it’s too late to tell the asshole that because he’s _dead _and _gone _. And it hurts so, _so _fucking much. She stares down at the freshly-turned dirt that covers his body, and resists the urge to wipe away her tears. They represent the impact that he had impact. Molly deserves to have people remember him, no matter how much it hurts, and maybe the pain feels good. Maybe it feels deserved._______ _ _ _

__________If it does, she won’t mention it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But what she hates the most about this is that she owes that little purple shit another favor, and she’ll never get to pay him back for it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“You asshole, Molly,” Beau whispers, her voice hitching midway through. “I still owe you, so you’d better get your dumb ass back here pretty damn quick so I can pay it back.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The only response she gets is the mournful caw of a lone raven as it lands on the tip of the stick from which Molly’s coat flaps gently in the breeze._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos are always appreciated. i love feedback and critiquing, if you have any for me :)


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